The Circle Closes

We who are old once were bold, our youth
now just a thought.
A time when they clamored to hear our words,
our advice readily sought.

Those were the days, nothing too tough, we were
able to reach the sky.
Now at this time, thing's are a chore, a glass on
the shelf is too high.

Our circle of friends grew each day, always
new folks to know.
Time was short; we had much to do, always
some where to go.

Now things have slowed, our back bowed, it's
hard to get around.
Sure if we fall down, we'll never get off the ground.

With each passing day, our friends fade away,
I know because I count noses.
As time goes on, with each one that is gone,
the circle closes.